


I might be driven to sell your love for peace

by The Acrobat (the_acrobat)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Family, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-12
Updated: 2006-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_acrobat/pseuds/The%20Acrobat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney wants to go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I might be driven to sell your love for peace

_It well may be that in a difficult hour,  
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,  
Or nagged by want past resolution's power,  
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,  
Or trade the memory of this night for food.  
It well may be. I do not think I would._

John is running into the sun, air tearing in and out of his lungs with each breath, feet pounding on the hot metal as regular as an engine, when he spots a hunched shadow on the north pier. He wouldn’t stop, normally, but the past few weeks were worse than anything John has experienced before and Atlantis personnel are his responsibility, so the least he can do is stop and see how whoever-it-is is faring. John slows his pace, wipes his brow on the hem of his t-shirt, and jogs over.

“Major.”

It’s McKay, and his voice sounds _strange_.

”How did you know it was me?” John replies.

“I came to the farthest pier on Atlantis to have a moment to myself, Colonel. Who _else_ could it be?”

John sits down next to McKay at the end of the pier and leans back on his elbows. He follows McKay's gaze up into the sky, to the only black dot marring an otherwise perfect sky.

“That the Daedalus?” he asks.

When McKay doesn’t answer, John turns to look at him. McKay's face is red and puffy, and streaked with wetness. It looks as if he has been drying his eyes on his sleeve - it is dark with moisture. John bumps him with his shoulder.

“No, Major, that’s the USS Enterprise,” McKay says, but his heart isn’t in it.

John bumps him with his shoulder again.

“I could go back to earth, you know. Back to Colorado – or – back to Canada. I have a sister. Jeannie. She wrote to me. The Daedalus brought her letter. She has two kids. She told me that. Can you believe that, Major? Two kids. They’re nine and eleven and I’ve never even met them. I could go back to earth and –“

It’s funny, how John forgets that McKay isn’t military, that despite his posturing and bravado and his constant verborrhoea, despite all his bravery and his loyalty, there is something soft and vulnerable in him that has long since been anything but armour-solid in John. It should be easy – every emotion plays across McKay's face like letters on a light board – but John always forgets this vulnerability. The battle they just fought – and won – was worse than anything he had ever seen before, but to see McKay like this still catches him by surprise.

“I could get a job just about anywhere, with my credentials. I could get a job at the University of Toronto and make sure Jeannie doesn’t raise them to be complete morons.”

“Yeah. I’m sure you'd love teaching,” John drawls. He closes his eyes and feels the dot of the Daedalus burned into the negative image of the Pegasus sky on his retinas. "And I'm sure students love you." He opens his eyes again and watches the dot dance across the sunset. With two Daedalus class ships, they might stand a chance against the Wraith.

McKay glances at him.

“I could have a cat and a coffee maker –“McKay sighs - “And the latest issues of all the journals and office hours – I could hold office hours! – and a car, I could have a car."

"You have a _space ship_ , McKay. You hate briefings. I bet you hate office hours even more. For someone who misses coffee so much, you sure drink a lot of that hot Athosian bean drink..."

"I have family back on earth, Major. I have family. If I die out here, I'll never know them. I know this sounds strange to you, but when you're crawling up the outside of a broken satellite trying to save the galaxy and everyone in it from life-sucking aliens, it really puts things in perspective."

"You have family here," John says, and he claps McKay on the shoulder.

"Family," McKay says, weakly.

John gets to his feet and heads back toward the city. A minute later, he hears footsteps hitting the floor behind him, and McKay falls into step with him.

"Family?" McKay asks.

"Yeah," says John. He slips an arm around McKay's waist and squeezes, then lets him go. "Family."

"I could send a letter back on the Daedalus," McKay says, perking up.

"You do that," John says, but there's real affection in his voice. He pauses, awkward. Comforting people is not usually his thing. Then, he says, "We're going to be okay, Rodney. We're still here. You'll see your sister again."

"Thanks, John," McKay says, and together, they walk back to the centre of Atlantis.


End file.
